Dr Ratio X Reader - Blog Posts

Just a coworker

Dr ratio x g/n! reader (i tried)

Part 1, Part 2

cw. angst, super slow burn, they eventually get tgt, hurf/comfort, jealousy brr, reader is unhinged, mentions of drugs, kinda cringe but who cares I've written worse, not proofread, dr ratio is a pussy

a/n: i js wanna say fck SCHOOL FOR GIVING ME 6 PROJECTS DUE TOMORROW. THIS FIC IS MEH BUT TRUST IT GETS BETTER (hopefully…)

Veritas Ratio is a lonely man. Only having his books and his sculptures as friends— regarding the rest as no use for him.

Up till now, you've been nothing more than the pest who waves hi at him every morning, bringing him coffee every now and then. You must be scheming something, there's no way someone could ever be this nice without asking for a favour.

“Dr ratio!”

The alabaster headed man stared at you, even with that stone head of his, you can clearly feel his piercing gaze.

“What is it?”

Veritas groans in annoyance, what is it again?

Lately, you've been struggling to teach this subject. As well-versed you were in topics such as literature, history and the likes, it was true that you were above average with maths.

“I've been tutoring this kid after classes and well…”

He doesn't move, just listening intently.

“He's been asking about quantum mechanics and I don't know much about the topic so…”

“so?”

so?

“I was wondering if you can teach me it.”

God damn it, he has better things to do.

“Then read a book about it”

His eyes were trained on your figure as he saw you tense, just why him of all people?

“Dr ratio, just this once. I just need to learn the basics once and I won't bother you again!”

He closed his codex and turned the other way, ready to walk away from conversation.

“I have better things to do than humouring your foolish antics—”

“Please.”

Your hands fidget nervously as he paused before looking back at you, pondering whether to do you a favour.

“I'll think about it.”

By the time you blinked, he was gone.

The next day passed, you were at his door, clutching your teaching materials as you waited for veritas’ class to end.

He scrunched nose as annoyance rose in him like a tide, he could see you waiting at the window and checking the time every now and then.

“That ends our discussion for today.”

His voice echoing on the walls as the bell rang, his students already out the door.

After a good 10 minutes, most of the students were out the door as he was left alone with himself (+ those eyes of yours that never seem to leave him alone)

“It's rude to stare.”

His comment caught you off guard, the corners of your lips twitching nervously as you hid behind the wall again— shit, he caught you staring…

Veritas let out a sigh before cleaning his desk of the sparse test papers he's collected last week.

A moment of silence passed before you mustered up the courage to enter the spacious room, it was… quiet to say the least.

“Dr. Ratio—”

“I'll tutor you but with one condition.”

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you nervously anticipated what he's about to say. (Did I mention he paused to rile you up?)

“You,”

A click on his cabinet was heard before he turned at your direction to get a better look at you.

“That I won't have to tutor you again next time, just this once”

It was odd, a teacher asking for tutoring from a fellow teacher? It wasn't uncommon but it certainly irked him of the thought. You could just read a book about it but you'd rather take his precious hours in his day for something you could do yourself.

You let out a sigh of relief.

“whew… I thought you were going to refuse.”

“Do you want me to?”

You shook your head no, gripping your satchel tightly.

“Tomorrow at the faculty room after classes—”

When you blinked, he was already behind you. Was he a magician or something?!?

“—Don't be late.”

Then, the door closed abruptly, now it was only you in the room.

…

The next day, classes already ended and you cleaned up your desk to get to the faculty room.

As you slid the door open, he was already waiting for you.

“What're you doing?”

Veritas moved another chess piece on the board, eating the white team's queen.

“What does it look like I'm doing?”

Why can't he just be nice for once?

“Whatever, so… do we start reviewing?”

You pulled the chair opposite to his and sat down. He didn't reply, only tapping his feet.

“Your turn.”

“Do I just?—”

“Just move a piece.”

Fine then. There were barely any pieces left on the board, leaving you with no other choice as you hid your king at the corner of the board.

“Checkmate.”

There was a visible annoyance on your face, making veritas chuckle.

“Seriously? When are you going to start tutoring me? I came here to learn something— not some stupid chess game”

“First of all, chess isn't stupid”

Before you knew it, veritas flicked your forehead.

“Second of all, learn patience.”

“ow!”

Veritas hid away the board and grabbed all the books needed, pulling out some notes and highlighters for you.

“Read”

The man in front of you flipped the pages and pointed at the highlighted paragraph for you. Was he making you read out loud? Were you 10 or something?

“Do I really have to?”

His fingers tapped aggressively on the board, his patience was thinning and you weren't even past the first page yet.

“Just do it.”

…

Who could've guessed two hours later you would be in tears, notes sprawled all over the table and veritas shouting at you.

“Idiot.”

He commented on your work before rewriting the entire thing for you and repeating it again.

“God dammit we're not even past the 20th page yet you're here crying like a child.”

Sniffles echoed in the room, only his lamp illuminating the room. You checked your phone and it was already 8 pm.

“Now read.”

“Q-quantum mechanics…”

He clenched his jaw, raising his voice at you before you could continue.

“You imbecile, not that— can't you read?!? Its wave function!”

“Whatever!”

Before he could react, you stood up, bag already in hand and walking away.

“We're not done yet.”

“I don’t care.”

Just like that, you were gone.

…

Despite you running off yesterday… There you were sitting on that same chair with the alabaster head man right in front of you.

“Again?”

You bit your lip nervously before tightening the grip on your pen.

“Yeah.”

Veritas nodded as he placed down his codex and walked to the sprawled shelves at his desk, his fingers tracing over the books (those books were rotting on those shelves, too dusty he had to wipe them)

“here.”

He took the book off the shelf and thrusted it into your hands.

‘The nonlinear schrodinger equation’

“Let's start with the ‘weakly nonlinear dispersion relation’ topic.”

Time flies by as he explains each term to you, giving definition after definition about each equation in front of you.

“Here, page 24.”

He pointed at the first equation but your eyes couldn't leave his stone head.

For an intimidating man, he's getting quite patient with you.

“— and let's compute the coefficients, after that,”

You couldn't stop wondering what he looked like under that stone head. It's hot out here, he must be sweating a tsunami in there. Is he handsome? or maybe he's wearing that stone head because he looks that bad?

“—the quantum mechanical pressure becomes negligible in the ‘semiclassical’ where nabla and—”

He hit your head with a codex, with no hesitation at all.

“ow!”

Oh shit— he must've noticed you staring.

“What were we reviewing?”

uh…

You gulped nervously, looking down at the page, you guys were already at page 26?!?

“0 points.”

He smacked you but with less force, though enough to leave a bruise.

“that hurt…”

“Then listen, don't waste my time.”

Under that alabaster head of his, a small smile formed from the corner of his lips due to the amusing sight before him.

“You're annoying, let's go over the fluid-dynamical form again.”

You weren't that boring after all.

…

You both were already at page 31, which was slow progress (at least to him, he can finish the book in under 3 hours.), yet still progress nonetheless.

“Do you get it now?”

It was already 9:58 pm, shit. You both got carried away…

“Yeah.”

Veritas handed the book over to you and hid away his highlighters.

“Go review at home— you better finish page 40.”

You nod, shoving the book into your satchel and your water bottle.

Today was… fun.

As you walked outside, one foot already out the door, you looked back.

“What?”

“and…”

There was a moment of silence, none of you moving before your voice shook,

“Thank you.”

He didn't say anything back, only putting back his folders in his bag as he removed his attention from you. You shook your head and just walked home.

…

It was the third day of him tutoring you, you were getting quite good.

“And how do you do the hamilton equation?”

There was a weird habit you did, you would bite your pen or sometimes click it nonstop due to stress (which you did now, don't do it too much though, you'll piss off veritas.)

You let out a soft hum before confidently writing the equation, no error in sight.

“And these quantities are called?”

“They're uh… momentas, right?”

“20 points— you're getting good at this.”

Receiving praise from others came by often, but to get one from the Dr. Veritas Ratio himself? You could wish.

Your eyes were glued at the scratch paper, unable to contain your smile; the aeons definitely smiled down on you and blessed you with his attention for today.

He takes note of this, but doesn't comment on that any further, only flipping the pages.

…

The fourth day. It was 2 pm, 3 hours earlier than the usual tutor hours. A new coffee shop opened in the food court at the university, which turned into the new buzz (the old coffee shops were shit.)

The line was long, your legs were about to give up but your students would occasionally suggest this shop, saying it's definitely better than the instant coffee at the teacher's lounge.

After 5 more minutes, it was finally your turn to order.

“Good afternoon! What can I get ya?”

The menu was definitely diverse, candy corn flavoured coffee? That's new.

“I'll take your special cappuccino”

The cheerful cashier jotted down your order, asking for your name then running to the back.

You sat down at some table and took out your laptop, fixing your schedules for this weekend.

“For ___?”

Eh? That was fast. It only took them 3 minutes to make your order despite the heavy line? Impressive.

“Thank you.”

You smiled and snatched the cup from the counter and walked back to your seat.

It tasted funny. Coffee jelly in cappuccino with sprinkles on top? At Least it tasted good.

“And here I was wondering where you are.”

“ack!”

You looked up and saw veritas in front of you, looming over you with his codex behind him after he hit you.

“that hurt…”

He sighed and sat down next to you while you rubbed the bruised area.

“Stop hitting people with your codex damn it!”

“I find it far more interesting to use my codex to get your attention.”

“Weirdo.”

He chuckled at the way scoffed, sipping your coffee and typing some requirements on an excel sheet.

“Anyways, why were you looking for me?”

He leaned back on the couch, before responding,

“Nothing, I was just wondering where the idiot was.”

“You little—”

Only a soft sigh left your lips as you continued to type, veritas beside you reading his codex and none of you saying a word.

Though this peaceful moment was short lived as the bell rang, signalling that the two of you had to go back to your respective classes.

Veritas sat up, closing his book.

“It's time for me to go.”

“Oh yeah.”

Veritas was gone in a blink of an eye, what's up with him disappearing so suddenly 24/7?!?

…

5 pm.

You were patiently waiting in the faculty room, what was taking veritas so long?

“You're late”

Veritas rolled his eyes— wait.

His stone head was… was this really the veritas ratio? He had nice purple hair, his eyes, he looked so… beautiful.

No way.

“When are you going to stop staring?”

“Oh— uh.”

You chuckled nervously before forcing a smile as he sat down in front of you.

“Let's continue where we let off.”

The sound of flipping pages reverberated across the room, your eyes locked onto his face. He would occasionally click his tongue at some parts of the book, guiding you through each equation as his face was close to yours; enough to feel his breath on your skin.

“—because its transformation φ is a symmetry and thus preserves the Lagrangian L and the action ,S=∫L”

Veritas ratio leaned closer to you, your hands touching as he got closer,

“Do you get it now?”

You didn't. You were too focused on his face, with every wrinkle of his brows, the tiniest details of his jaw and hell, even his eyes. How could you even focus? With his face inches away from yours? No way. The man right next to you stares at you, tapping his fingers on the mahogany table; he repeated himself.

“I said, do you get it now?”

Like the air was sucked out of your lungs, your last card was to lie but he was smart enough to not fall for that.

“Y-yes”

“Then what were we reviewing just now?”

He rolled his eyes hearing your mind blank out and confused ‘uhhs’ escaped your lips. You flinch from his harsh tone, as the cold stare turned into a glare.

“We should be reviewing the noether theorem, not my face.”

He made you solve equation after equation, his gaze not leaving you once as he crumpled your papers even after one minor mistake, “Idiot”, “Do it again.”, and “Are you really paying attention?” Constantly rang in your ears, you were not sure whether you asked for a tutoring session or a three hour insulting session from the revered professor.

“I'm sorry.”, He sighed at your visible frustration as you apologised through gritted teeth. He started to pity you when you struggled with just the terms at the next lesson. Was this theorem that hard? He dropped his pen and closed the book.

“Let’s end today’s session.”

A look of relief appeared on your face as he said those words, clearly, he’ll give you a break—

“Just read this book instead. It gives a more in-depth explanation”

— or not. He thrusted the book in your hands and put on his alabaster head, making you raise an eyebrow,

“What? You can’t seem to focus without this on”

You laughed an awkward chuckle while sliding the book in your satchel, a small squeak was heard when he stood up and moved his chair at his desk.

“Tomorrow again?”

“Sure.”

…

Veritas tapped his feet aggressively as time past by, you were late by 20 minutes, by now he would've left but for some reason he's feeling nice today that he'll wait for you.

The faculty room door slid open as light footsteps entered the room.

“Sorry ‘m late.”

You smelled different today. That would sound creepy to the average person but despite the tight alabaster sculpture that covers his face, he could smell your perfume and that he's gotten used to your scent by now.

“Did you wear something new?”

“Come again?”

He took one glance at you and shook his head and shifted his attention to the complex arithmetics on his codex.

“Hey, what did you mean by that?”

It was hard to ignore you as he tried to mute your voice but he let out an inaudible sigh before taking a quick glance at you.

“I meant your perfume, idiot.”

“No need to be rude.” you scoffed and placed down your bag at your desk.

He finds himself eager for a response as your right hand shuffled in your bag looking for the perfume bottle,

“I just tried something new.”

“Oh?”

He leans over the table to take a closer look at the bottle, inspecting it with a skeptical look one he's glad you cannot see through his sculpted head.

“It was a gift from one of our coworkers here”

There was a loud slamming sound that rang in the room when you dropped the materials Veritas made you read, it was a pain highlighting everything.

“From who?”

Why was he suddenly interested? He's not one to ask about anyone's affairs so suddenly, not that he'd care about something so miniscule about you like perfume yet you humour him.

“From Amir, the history prof guy?”

“I see.” For some reason, he finds himself feeling annoyed after hearing who you got it from. Why would you accept a gift from that idiot? He's a far better history professor, definitely? definitely.

Hours passed yet he couldn't concentrate. Not with that foul stench of your new perfume of yours.

Dr. Ratio scrunched his nose in disgust as he continued to guide you through each and every lesson, harsher than usual— you didn't know why.

“Wrong answer, 2 points.”

Veritas smacked your arm with his heavy codex and snatched your answer sheet, crumpling it and tossing it in the bin.

“Do it again.”

This fucker. You were starting to lose your resolve but you do not falter under his scrutinising gaze.

Again and again. Another 30 minutes yet your answers didn't seem ‘perfect’ enough.

Veritas clicked his tongue in annoyance as you failed to answer another simple question again

“Are you even paying attention?”

“If you didn't yell at me every minute I would've”

You continued to write more equations as he rolled his eyes at your reply, his eyes scanned your work and it was okay (atleast to his standards).

His eyes squinted, looking for any mistake but there was none, he gave up.

“50 points”, he spoke in a defeated tone.

“Just 50?”

“0 points then”

“Oh come on.”

It was hell getting tutored by him.

A/N: ITS TWO PARTS COS FUCK TUMBLR AND TOLD ME THERES A WORD LIMIT LOL. THE FULL FIC WAS LIKE 6.4K WORDS OR SHIT DAMN. ITS SO CRINGE ONG IMMA POST PART TWO TMRW GOD. IM LAGG>NG SO NAD RN HELP

pairing: dr. ratio x gender neutral reader

contains: angst, insecurities, friends to ???, open ended, mutual (?) pining, banter (?), i tried to make their dialogue lighthearted, reader is a writer/author in this, you call him veritas alot

synopsis: a friend, that's all you'll ever be to him.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: wrote from 400 to almost 2k in one night hehe, i wanted to atleast update my other event so i did. and if i get asked if this has part two uhm, i WILL think about it :D based on a true story (aka im not sure if i like one of my guy friends)

part of the comeback festa

Meeting Veritas Ratio was one of the best things that happened to you.

He was a bit eccentric, really intimidating and you're still unsure why both of you became friends so easily.

You liked different things, and people would scoff or laugh at you when you told them that the scary Dr. Ratio was your dearest friend.

When you had free time, you'd meet with one another and discuss the happenings of the week. He'd tell you about the various research topics he delved into or the interesting students he spotted on his lecture.

Meanwhile, you'd tell him about the activities you found yourself in when gathering inspiration for a novel. And Veritas Ratio must not look like he's interested - oh, but he is invested whenever you recount the flowery ideas that came to you that day.

And it was inevitable that you saw the man as not only your dearest friend, but someone you fell in love with.

It was a simple affair really, you'd think that the Veritas Ratio was hard to love yet it was easier than taking a breath of fresh air. He may look cold on the outside yet when you talk to him- you undeniably feel warm.

Other people won't notice it but you do. You know how much he values teaching his students because the way he animatedly “rants” about his students - you could see the sparkle in his eyes, that desire to impart knowledge to those who can't do the same as him.

The more you stare into his mesmerizing eyes or imagine the way you'd card your fingers through his hair - you lay awake in your bed, wishing that Veritas Ratio would feel the same for you.

“You look distressed, is something troubling you?” He asks out of nowhere when you were eating lunch together.

It was a bit late for lunch yet he still found time to eat with you, and he even brought the foods you wanted to try for a long time. 

“Ah…me? It's about my novel. I'm getting stuck on the plot and whatnot.” You say, eyes flitting away from his inquisitive gaze.

“Oh, care to tell me about it? I could even offer my input.”

It wasn't even said in romantic intent yet your heart races loudly in your chest.

“It's a short one this time. The protagonist found themselves falling for their longtime friend but can't say it for fear of rejection or ruining the friendship.”

After voicing it out, you're seriously considering the planet to swallow you whole because isn't that a bit too obvious?

“What's got you stuck then? I'm quite sure you are well versed in this type of storyline, are you not?” He tells you with an eyebrow raise.

You can't speak further, in fear of revealing your true feelings to the man before you. And so you swallow your words and laugh.

“You're right…”

In the months that follow, you're hoping Veritas hadn't noticed a single thing amiss with how you're acting.

You also hope most of your excuses are credible and don't seem as if you're avoiding him. You've got to thank some of your colleagues for barging in on some of them, if not then this whole charade would have been discovered long ago.

Veritas Ratio is very observant, he won't talk much and it's subtle. You get surprised when he mentions something out of the blue and you realize it's those you've said when you think he wasn't listening.

And when another friend of yours comes to you and starts talking, you aren't worried…well for the meanwhile.

“I heard you liked someone.” She said, clinging on your arm and gushing. She's the type that wants to be updated on all the latest gossip and you would have loved to listen if Veritas wasn't a few feet away.

He could rattle your ear off about bringing noisy coworkers in his ‘safe space’ even when you're in public. You gaze over to him and see that he isn't listening and is focusing on his book.

“Where’d you hear that?” Pulling away from her, you asked - hoping that she would back off after having been entertained.

“That doesn't matter! What matters is who you like!”

You do not like where this is going.

And from your peripheral, Veritas raises his head - it looks as if he's disinterested or annoyed even, yet he doesn't try to push away the source of noise.

“I heard it's a friend of yours.”

This is really bad.

“I'm not sure where you've heard of that, but it isn't true!” Your voice pitches up, eyes signaling for your other friend to shut up.

Sighing, you pull her farther from where Veritas was sitting. And you cross your arms, needing that explanation.

“Is it really Dr. Ratio?” If you hadn't dragged her further then she would have exposed you and you would've died on the spot.

“Where did you hear that from?” You asked again, exasperated, maybe paranoid because you feel Veritas would teleport to where you were and expose everything about you.

“I didn't hear anything really. It's obvious!”

You can't speak after that.

Realizing that your true feelings are quite evident, you don't even know how to act in front of your friend.

How could you act normally in that situation? The truth had slapped you in the face after avoiding it for so long - when you got back to where Veritas was sitting, you couldn't even look him in the eye!

Thankfully, you had evaded his prodding and saved yourself from more questioning when a call from work interrupted you both.

Though, the problem lies in the aftermath. How could you face him when hanging out? A few months earlier you could have stared at his face normally yet now when you hear his voice - your heart speeds up.

Groaning, you bump your forehead against the wooden desk. The manuscript of your novel is laid spread over the table. By this time, you think Veritas had connected all the dots - he's smart after all.

Your phone rings and when you pick it up, you see his name.

“Speak of the devil,” you muttered after accepting the call and he questions your greeting.

“What?”

You've got to get it together!

“It's nothing. Anyway, why did you call me?” You scribble on the sides of the scratch paper you found scattered on your desk while waiting for his response.

“What, I can't just call a friend?” He huffed and you had to pinch yourself to stop imagining things.

“You can. But it is very unlike you, doctor.”  you jest, trying to regain composure, willing yourself to not slip up anything during this conversation.

“I'm lying too. I just wanted to hear your voice, is that bad?”

Now that is bad. Your cheeks flare up and you're thankful he isn't in front of you or your eyes would go everywhere and you'd be stuttering.

“What has gotten into you?” You asked and his answer just infuriates you.

“I can ask you the same thing.” He hums, and your stomach does that weird somersault.

“Nothing's the matter, why'd you ask?” Maybe you can get this conversation shifted to another topic, I could ask him about his past lectures or his future lessons-

“By now you would have pestered me to come here. But you haven't.”

You chuckle in utter disbelief, “I find that hard to believe.”

Silence drapes over the call like a warm blanket, and you would have welcomed it if it wasn't for his next words.

“I wanted you to come here actually.”

He must be joking.

A quiet what escapes your lips and you hear that melodious laugh resonate in your ears. You swoon but remember the circumstances, you freeze right after.

You would have loved to hear what he has to say next, after all he is talkative about things he likes. But your shaking fingers press on the end button and the phone drops against the desk.

The thoughts that came subsequently was a grim reminder of your situation.

You like Veritas Ratio, and you're scared to tell him.

It was those cliche and cheesy romance novels you would have enjoyed reading, the conflict before resolution before the two love interests. The absolute torment the lead characters would go through while internalizing if they were good enough for the other.

You then remind yourself that Veritas Ratio wasn't a book character and neither were you.

It had been a few weeks since your last conversation. And he probably understood the silence that came from your end because he hadn't tried reaching out.

This hurts you, but only slightly. Admitting that it's painful solidifies the fact that you are head over heels for Dr. Ratio.

Evading your long time friend was out of the question, it's about time that he barged into your home and questioned you on why you were so adamant on ignoring him after not explaining yourself.

But how could you? How could you explain that you were scared to admit your feelings to him, in fear that he would leave you?

Veritas Ratio was first and foremost, your dearest friend - losing him over some feelings wasn't worth it. You weren't worth it.

You were not deserving of someone like Veritas Ratio. He was the sun and you were the moon chasing after him - being friends with him was all you needed and even if you hide your feelings till it hurts then so be it.

Just then, someone started knocking on your door. You weren't expecting anybody yet still you opened and saw the bane of your existence.

Seeing him after so long knocks the breath out of your lungs. He looks worried over you and you wished he wasn't, you prayed that he was angry at you instead at least your heart won't start beating erratically in your chest.

Words weren't spoken but you let him in. After all, the walls of your home missed his presence and it was like he was never gone.

When you were both sitting on the couch, his eyes observed you carefully. You know him by now and so you avoid his prying gaze and will your hands to stop trembling.

He asks why he was being avoided and if he did something wrong, he sounded so desperate and you wanted to confess. But that looming fear squeezed your chest as if stopping you from saying anything else.

“You didn't…I just wanted time for myself for a while.” You knew what he wanted to say afterwards. He'd inquire why it wasn't shared to him right away - as friends, you regarded each other as a safe space. 

You know Veritas as patient but right now, he is getting desperate. He knows you're lying, you are hiding away from him but why - he knows he hasn't done anything wrong yet why are you so persistent in keeping this from him?

“You're lying.”

Tears have become present in your eyes, your palms have spread on your thighs and pressing against them is the only thing stopping you from breaking.

“Why can't you tell me anything anymore? I thought we were friends?”

Friends. That's all you'll ever be to him. You should know that yet…

“I've liked you for a while now.”

You didn't know what compelled you to confess but the words flew out of your mouth. Your heart was beating loudly against your ears, your hands never stopped trembling and your eyes glanced towards his.

“I know you might not feel the same way…”

His eyes have widened, mouth agape slightly yet he stays silent, curious on what you were saying.

“I don't know when I started liking you, and I'm aware it could ruin our…friendship. I'm sorry.”

Meeting Veritas Ratio was one of the best things that happened to you.

You're just not sure if he would like to see you again after this.

all rights reserved © vynlouvre 2024

Ad Experimentum

Yandere Dr. Ratio x Reader

Veritas catches you reading one of your dirty books.

Warnings: Implied kidnapping, forced imprisonment, NSFW scenes being read aloud, Dr. Ratio being a dick as always

Within the confines of Veritas’s home, you feel like a mouse in a maze, reduced to a caged animal, always under scrutiny and experimentation.

Escape is impossible. Dr. Ratio has ensured that you’re never out of his reach, even though he acts as if you are the burden and he didn’t kidnap you and imprison you in his home. Sometimes you wonder why he even keeps you; surely he has better things to do than to quip at your inadequacy or lack of genius. But alas, the pretentious prick seems keen on pushing every one of your buttons to see how you tick. You might even call it intimacy if he wasn’t so clinical and judgmental about it all.

Because physical escape is impossible, you’ve turned to escaping within the confines of your own mind.

Books provided the perfect retreat. You’ve since abandoned any non-fiction to focus on fantasy, to worlds that effortlessly whisk you away. Novels that depict true, romantic love, not the twisted ownership you’ve grown used to. Like you’re some pet to be controlled and prodded at, like Pavlov’s dog, waiting and drooling for its master’s hand at the ring of a bell.

So, in your hopes to feel something real, you’ve started to delve into stories that are a bit…spicier.

With the latest read in your hand, your eyes skim hungrily over the pages as the tension between the protagonists builds. The lovers begin to undress each other, the one spreading his partner’s pussy as she grinds into his hand—

Veritas effortlessly plucks the book from your hands, earning a cry of protest. You try to snatch it back, but, with the help of his towering height, he dangles it just out of reach. “What in the heavens is this?”

The way he holds the book between his thumb and pointer finger, as if merely touching it would taint his self-proclaimed perfect set of knowledge, was almost comedic. You would laugh if he wasn’t such a condescending asshole.

Instead, you scowl. “Give it back.”

He merely hums and turns the novel in his hands, inspecting the cover. Licking his thumb, he flips to your bookmarked page and begins reading aloud. “My hand caressed her core as I speared her with two, thick fingers. She moaned and arched into my palm in response, causing my cock to twitch in anticipation. God, I wanted to taste her arousal. Her pussy was perfect, so wet and tight and ready for me to claim, to fuck.”

Embarrassment rages across your cheeks like a burn. You fling yourself at him, pounding your fists against his chest when he lifts the book out of your reach easily. “Stop, just stop.”

Amused, Dr. Ratio continues to narrate the scene in painstaking detail. “I lowered my head, letting my tongue swirl around her clit and rendering her voice to nothing but pitiful mewls. She tasted like heaven, like my own personal feast. I buried my tongue in her, then, and held her hips as she bucked into my mouth, begging for release—”

“I will do anything,” you beg, face in your palms, “just please stop.”

Finally, mercifully, Veritas closes the book and lowers it down enough for you to snatch it back. You cradle it against your chest, heart pounding and palms sweaty with a chaotic blend of shame, anger, and relief that it was over.

“This is what you indulge in while I’m working? Though you are hardly an intellectual exception, I believed you to be above this brain-rotting nonsense, (Y/n).”

In spite of your embarrassment, you boldly meet his golden eyes. “And what do you care? I enjoy it, and it’s not meant for you. Go stick your nose in a dictionary for all I care.”

“At least I’d be learning something,” he sneers in return, looking down his nose at you. He sniffs, tilting his chin up. “What do those books have that I can’t offer you?”

You still, observing his features. Now that the fun of teasing you has worn off, his eyes flare with loathing. With a jolt, you realize it is not aimed at you but at…the book?

Wordlessly, you glance between Dr. Ratio and your novel. Then, a stilted laugh escapes your lips. “Wait.. Are you seriously jealous of a book?”

“Don’t be preposterous,” he scoffs, though you notice his white-knuckled grip against the back of the armchair you were previously lounging in. “I would never stoop so low as to associate myself with that plebeian filth. I simply wanted to ascertain your reaction to it being read aloud.”

You resist the desperate urge to roll your eyes. “Fine, then. Please leave me to my uneducated filth.” You spin around, intent on finding a new place to finish your reading.

“Not so fast.” Veritas is on you quicker than a cobra, large hands gripping both your shoulders. “Perhaps all is not lost. We may yet transform this circumstance into an educational opportunity for you.”

A chill runs down your spine at the heavy touch, and a sudden sense of foreboding warns you to run. You’re all too aware you’re the mouse being fed to the snake in this moment.

Veritas spins you to face him, eyes slowly trailing down your form, as if taking you in with a new perspective. “I believe an experiment is due.”

You go rigid. “I’m sorry?”

“If you’re so intent on reading about all those fantasies in your books, let’s go ahead and put them to the test, shall we?”

At his clear implication, you yelp and make a run for it. In that moment Veritas strikes, fisting your hair with one hand and cupping your chin with the other as he presses your body flush against his own. You can already feel his hard desire digging into your back.

“Here’s my hypothesis,” he purrs in your ear. “I predict that by the end of tonight, you too will be begging for my cum, whether you want to or not.”

His theory, as always, was proven to be correct.

This is beautiful I love it soooooo much I can't wait to get him

I'll show him

"Oh! He thinks he's better than me with his perfect knowledge and his oh so noble! goal of curing ignorance." you growled squeezing your tablet tightly fuming at the previous events that happened.

"Now, now, Y/N. Be careful with that device it holds very important code for the simulated universe and your life" Herta warned while tying away at her screen.

It's been exactly a day since your run-in with Veritas Ratio, or as the Genius Society call him Dr. Ratio. Both of you are different, you excel at computer programming and virtualization, and he excels at- yeah whatever he does. An argument ensued between you and you weren't one to back down from what you believe, and neither was he and so for each point you made he hit you head with his book and made a counter argument to yours. It irked you when you recount the details of yesterday.

"Hello! Give me that tablet before you break it!"

"And if it bothers you that much take up legal action, subpoena him or something. I don't care. I'll pay for the fees." she calmly stated reaching out to the device.

"Her-I mean Madam Herta really!? You will actually do that?"

"Not me, but Asta. I just want to enjoy the scene. That man has caused more trouble. I can't even get my employees to focus without being an emotional wreck. Seriously."

She huffed and walked away muttering something. Well it was food for thought you rubbed your head were you've been hit repeatedly by him.

'Yes. Take legal action'

The next Day

"And what is this?" Veritas asks

"I'm suing you." You stated

"Suing?"

"Yes. You've been served, Veritas Ratio. I suffer from migraine headaches and emotional damages done by you."

You stuffed the paper directly into his face to make it clear to him. He pushed it out of his face as if it were nothing and stared at you. Chilles ran down your back when he looked at you. His gaze didn't hold any malice, just confusion.

"I see. In wanting to educate you about your ignorance, I am subpoenaed. Interesting how childlike your mind is Y/N."

Your eyebrow twitched, "Childlike? Might I remind you who hacked Silverwolf's accounts and had them reported to the IPC and I'm also the one responsible for the coding of the Simulated Universe and all things related to code."

"And so?"

You fumed, your gears stopped turning and started turning in reverse,

"I'm not even gonna bother with you. You'll pay for what you did, Ratio."

He simply laughed as you turned your back on him. Ratio closed his codex and then said something. A theory which you knew like the back of your hand and he taunted you with it.

And so you bickered, he said there's an updated theory and what you simply know is outdated. You weren't gonna lose your ground even if there was an updated one. He's really going to make you defend a theory on basic programming which you live and breathe. NO, not this time. And so, you the least thing anyone or you would do, you took his book and hit him on the head with it. And explained why x + y= z, and whacked him again, and explained another theory which you helped to prove is viable is correct.

You had lost it and he saw it. He was just teasing you with that one, he didn't expect it to go this far that you'd hit him.

"Hey Veritas. 1+1=2. But in programming it's actually ten."

Whack!

The sound of a mechanical door sliding door echoed, Asta walked in on the sigh,

"Oh my! Y/N! Please don't violence doesn't solve anything." she shouted after you trying to stop you.

"Stay out of this Asta. Karma is a bitch and so is he! His karma finally caught up to him now." you said.

"Finally! I wondering when the tables will turn" Herta's high-pitched voice sounded from the corner.

"Madam Herta, stop them."

"No."

When you tried to hit him again, he grabbed your hand and took his book. It doesn't bode well for you.

"My. Must I say I've never seen anyone as fierce as you. I only joked, I just wanted to see your reaction, I didn't know it would go this far" he breathed out.

'Bitch!'

"From the way you're looking at me you just insulted me." he smiled

" 'Course I did. You're a maniac what kind of person goes around curing ignorance by hitting others with a book. It's madness!"

"I do. I Verit.."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and just make sure you make it to court on the due date or you could play dumb and ignore it."

You walked away sticking your tongue out and blowing raspberries at him. He could show up or be ignorant it was up to him.

veritas shows you how to kiss ( drabble )

content: making out, fem!reader, kinda top!veritas, just making out

okay so we all know veritas is a genius. he will show you how kissing works. he will lead, he’ll guide you where you place your hands, lets you feel the emotions he pours onto you through the kiss. things might escalate the moment you let out a sound, a moan, a whimper. anything that will rile him up and escalate his desire to feel your body further. he’d slide his hands under your shirt just to cup your tits, massage them. literally just feel your skin that has been blocked by your shirt and you’d just try to catch your breath while mimicking his mouth’s movements and reciprocate the kiss. perhaps there’s no more teaching in baby steps but learning through the experience itself since both of you are so lost in thought at the moment, just feeling each other until the both of you are out of breath and you’d remember what you were here for.

divider by @saradika-graphics

© elixara

what are the love languages of hsr men? — their love languages in a relationship

words of affirmation — verbal expressions of love, appreciation, and encouragement

dan heng, jiaoqiu, mydei, sunday: “know that i love you. you are loved, even if you cannot see it. you are cared for. i love every part of you, traits that you seem perfect or imperfect, your scars, every flaw. i love you.”

quality time — giving another person your undivided attention

jing yuan, dan heng, gepard, sunday: despite both of your busy schedules, you make time to see them. if you can, then you will. you know that they love spending time with you. making new memories as time flows.

physical touch — connection through appropriate physical touch (nonsexual or sexual)

blade, dr. ratio, mydei, phainon: you know that touch is what grounds them. subtle in public and obvious in private. you let them touch your hand, hug you, caress every part of your body. intimate skin to skin contact (sexual or nonsexual) is a must. perhaps begrudgingly in veritas’s case.

acts of service — selfless, thoughtful acts that make a person’s life easier

jing yuan, gepard: they truly appreciate it that someone in their life is being thoughtful of the situation they’re in. both are incredibly busy and you make their life easier by remembering the things about them. perhaps that’s what made them fall in love with you more.

receiving gifts — tangible tokens of love and thoughtfulness

jiaoqiu, phainon: oh they adore gifts, even little trinkets that remind you of them when you saw what you gave them. they found it adorable that you thought of them when you are buying or preparing this gift. they will always treasure what you give them. it’s the thought that counts, always.

of course, they try to do all love languages when it comes to you. after all, you are their lover. they treasure you the most. your happiness is their happiness.

divider by @saradika-graphics

© elixara

Literally me in calc rn, wtf is csc sec and cot stop speaking Gaelic to me I don't understand this😭😭

Dr Ratio x Reader

Dr Ratio tries to teach y/n basic algebra (and cries doing so, they are just that stupid)

"You do what's in the parenthesis first,"

This was too hard.

With great regret, you had asked Dr. Ratio to help you with understanding algebra. You didn't even really care for the subject that much, but apparently you had to understand it in order to learn the cooler math. Which sucked - why couldn't you just do the interesting stuff first? This doesn't really seem related to anything, honestly.

But according to him, this was a basic foundation of mathematics.

Which sucked. It was so stupid. Why were there letters in this? You were pretty sure math is about numbers.

How does x even equal a number? You wouldn't know, because you were stuck on this problem for over twenty minutes now.

This was question 3 on the quiz he gave you. A simple one. He just wanted to go over the basics he had lectured you about. Which left you stuck in the same seat you had watched him lecture from, your ass already sore from sitting for so long. Unfortunately, freedom was far away as you got completely lost on how to solve any of these problems.

5(x+1)=2(x-5)-6

You tried to subtract the 1 out of the parenthesis, to bring it to the other side. This was how it's done, right?

Looking up, you saw his mask covering his face. So you didn't know if you were doing what you should be. So you just kept going.

Somehow you got 1/5.

That probably wasn't the right answer. But whatever.

Dr. Ratio was making weird noises at this point. He loomed over you, his abs almost hitting the top of your head as he watched - once in a while his thigh would hit the back of your chair, reminding you of whatever thought process he had. However he saw what you were doing from underneath that mask, you just knew he was judging you.

Carefully, you focused on the next problem.

The seething professor behind you hadn't allowed you to use a calculator - according to him, it was far too easy. Something one can easily do in their head.

It felt a little more embarassing to have to do the subtraction on the side. You don't remember 54-12 off of the top of your head, and you weren't a math god. So you had to do this each time. The side of your paper was riddled with lines that broke down or added numbers.

"That's not right."

He placed his hand on your shoulder, leaning down even further as he took his other hand and scrutinized the paper in front of him. The mask on his face brushed against your head, and it was unexpected - it didn't feel cold nor warm, simply just room temperature. It wasn't as hard as stone either.

"I thought the point of a quiz was for me to figure it out, not the teacher."

There was no point in arguing with him though. You were tired and your hand hurt.

"You can't even figure it out. At this point, this is a form of torture," The way he said that made it sound as if he was in more pain than you.

"Did you listen to anything that I had said?"

"Yeah." No the fuck you did not.

"None of your answers should be fractions. You also can't even follow the order of operations."

"I did the parenthesis like you said-"

"You just keep doing addition and subtraction. Not even well, since you make very simple mistakes."

You looked to where he was pointing; 39+42=71. That looked pretty correct to you.

"That's right though?"

"No. No, it's not. You missed an entire ten. It's 81," he sighed as he said this as if talking to a stupid child, curt but not able to truly express how he felt. Maybe he was justified in that response.

"Oh." You didn't know how he got that answer, but he was certainly right. Oops.

"You can't do algebra since you can't even do the basics. Do you even know how to multiply?"

"Yeah, I can-"

"Without a calculator. With double digits,"

He had taken off his mask, placing it to the side as he really started to scrutinize you; the hair on his forehead stuck to his skin slightly, having one bang that stubbornly clung to his nose and batting close to his eyelashes. The man even took a seat next to you, his eyes looking at yours and then back to the paper. As if he was in disbelief.

You could only shake your head. This was hard, and you could feel the frustration build up in your eyes as he only looked and scrutinized your paper further.

"You need to learn the basics again."

"This is the basics, right?"

"No. You can't even multiply or divide. That is elementary."

In shame, you put down your pencil and tried to hide your face behind your hands. You were never going to be able to do the cool math, were you? Like how to calculate the burger number. That's the cool math.

You heard the pencil be picked up by another hand, one that is a little too close to you - Dr. Ratio's shoulder brushed against yours, his bare and slutty arm taking up more than enough of your personal space.

"Let's go over this next problem. I'll explain it as you go along."

He was already giving you tips while you did the quiz, but that's fine. You have already dug yourself into a pit of shame and despair as you failed to do, apparently, basic math. So what would be one more embarrassing failure?

Taking the pen from his rather warm hand, you went back too it.

"So, how would you start this problem?"

At this point, his finger was just pointing at hieroglyphs. The letters with the numbers made it rather hard to comprehend what you were looking at.

"The parenthesis."

"There is no parenthesis in this," he frowned at you, continuing his streak of major disappointment. "Order of operations, PEMDAS, so what is your next step?"

"...multiply?"

"0 points. You do the exponents."

"So, the x with the little two."

You were sure that he blanked out on that one. His face had fallen into a strange expression, as if he had seen shadows move in his peripheral vision, as if he were followed by shadow people; a sort of pre-horror look.

"You do know what x squared means, correct?"

"How does x become a square? I still don't get that."

His face morphed into something else. Frustration, shock, agony. It could mean a lot of things, but his reaction was so strong you could taste it.

"You don't know what exponents are, do you?"

"...no."

You would think he would have understood this given how you were apparently bad at everything else. But it looked like you had slapped him and kicked his dog, from the look he gave you.

"By aeons what do you know!?"

"...1+1?"

He slammed his hands against the table. Your pencil rolled away from you from the shockwave, hitting the floor with a clatter as Ratio made loud facial expressions from underneath his hands. It looked as if he were a Shakespearian character who had been stabbed in the heart.

His breaths were heavy, his chest heaving with every attempt. One of his amber eyes peaked at you from underneath his slender fingers, staring at you as if you were a stubborn puzzle that did not wish to be solved.

There was something he wanted to say, but instead there was only a small noise that came from his throat. The stare he gave you could shatter glass.

"Are you okay, professor?"

He shook his head. The man turned to look at nothing, his face cradled in the palm of his hand.

"I have never met anyone like you."

That wasn't a compliment. But you were going to take it as one. That's the best you could do in this situation, honestly.

The man put his head down onto the table, one of his hands threading through his hair. You reached your hand out to his shoulder, patting him lightly in order to comfort.

You didn't see it, but there were tears pooling around his eyes, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself down.

Authors note: I don't know what this is, I'm just trying to grasp ratios character. If it's OOC then that's cause i haven't even gotten to penachony yet.

Also the burger number is real it's called whopper and was literally named after the burger King sandwich. The more you know.

ugh this with dr. Ratio is 💋

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3a001LPBKV/?igsh=dmRkazFnNHoxN3N5

Veritas Ratio HSR X Reader

“Stubborn, Stubborn, Stubborn.”

masterlist

You’re apart of the crew and an aspiring scientist. Though focusing in the forensics field to help out on missions.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. You hunched over a cluttered desk inside Herta’s Space Station, scribbling notes that looked more like deciphered codes than legible science. The quiet hum of machinery served as a backdrop to your forced concentration, punctuated every so often by the sharp scratch of a pen.

Dr. Veritas Ratio sat a few feet away, posture rigid, eyes sharp beneath a veil of bangs, hand flying across the pages of his own leather bound book like a man possessed.

This wasn’t what you imagined when you signed up to “shadow the renowned Dr. Ratio for advanced forensic learning.” You wanted to expand your skills, help the crew better on field missions because for some god forsaken reason, every time you stepped foot on a new planet, you were the one knee deep in clues, bodies, and mysteries no one asked for. It only made sense to sharpen your mind where it counted. days in and Dr. Ratio had barely acknowledged you unless he was critiquing your logic like a middle school science project.

Still, you tried again.

“So,” you started, voice casual, “when you said the neural pathways respond to stimulation, were you implying synaptic frequency increases even without cognitive awareness, or?”

“I was referring,” he interrupted at lightning speed, “to the involuntary oscillation of signal transmissions under external influence, something any second year biologist could tell you. Your phrasing was inaccurate, misleading, and honestly bordering on theoretical idiocy.”

You blinked, stunned into silence not because you were offended, but because his words were fired off like bullets from a gatling gun. You couldn’t even keep up enough to be offended. Still, you smiled, brows raised. “Right… of course. That’s what I meant. Totally.”

He didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge the sarcasm. Just kept writing. You sighed, staring at your notes and trying to find the motivation to continue copying something down about tissue decomposition in altered gravity conditions. But your thoughts were elsewhere specifically: “The brain is a muscle, my ass,” you thought bitterly. “This man is a stick in the mud.”

You tried once more, adjusting your chair just enough to glance at him. “Hey, uh… Ratio?” He didn’t stop writing. “I just wanted to let you know it’s my last day here. The Express is taking off tonight.”

He paused. Pen hovered in midair. For the first time in hours, he turned to look at you. “Then I suppose this is farewell,” he said evenly. “Any mind still desperate to learn more is worth a modicum of effort.” You blinked. That actually sounded… almost like a compliment? “But you remain, unfortunately, idiotic.”

There it was.

You couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped. “Thanks, I’ll take that as the most affectionate thing you’ve said all week.”

“There is no affection in scientific discourse,” he replied, already back to his book.

You exhaled hard through your nose. There’s no pleasing this man. Still, you gathered your things, slung your bag over your shoulder, and gave him a nod. “Appreciate the time. Really. Maybe next time, I’ll come back knowing enough to offend you less.”

Ratio didn’t look up. “Unlikely, but your optimism is statistically entertaining.”

You paused at the door and gave one last look over your shoulder. No goodbye. Just the steady scratch of pen on paper. Annoying. Insufferable. Condescending. You had plenty of normal conversations with Ruan Mei, Screwllum, even Herta who could be a little unhinged but at least talked like a human being. you couldn’t say you didn’t learn something. Even if you wanted to shove him into a simulation chamber and press “random.”

Sighing, you stepped out of the lab, muttering to yourself, “The man needs a personality transplant. Or at least a nap.” Time to go back to the Astral Express. Hopefully, without being called an idiot in five different academic dialects.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. Dr. Veritas Ratio stood alone in the silence of Herta’s Space Station lab, the ambient hum of machinery now a mere background to his thoughts. The room still carried the faint trace of your presence a slightly skewed chair, a half empty data pad left untouched, a worn notebook you used with mismatched doodles and scientific scribbles alike. He stared at the door for longer than he intended after you had left.

“Hmph.” His voice echoed softly in the quiet room, as if irritated by his own lingering stillness.

With a sharp breath, he returned to his seat, flipping open the leather bound journal he had been writing in not his own research logs, but something far more… unwieldy.

A chronicle. An account. An observation. You. You, the girl who barged into his space several days ago claiming she was eager to “learn more about forensics” so she could stop playing amateur detective across the galaxy like some kind of self declared interstellar sleuth. The girl who stood there in front of him bright eyed, annoyingly persistent, armed with nothing but a notepad and a smile that dared him to reject her.

He should have said no. Really. He meant to.

Entry One:

She is insufferably stubborn.

From the moment she entered, she challenged my authority not with words, but with that relentless, aggravating optimism. It’s like trying to teach science to a golden retriever that insists on wagging its tail every time it gets a basic equation right.

She surrounds herself with the imbecile crew of the Astral Express each of them so charmingly flawed that one would need earplugs just to survive a conversation. She listens. She stares at equations like a brain dead dog. if puzzles are worth solving, and when she gets them wrong…

Ratio’s pen slowed for a second.

Entry Three:

I threw a book at her.

She botched a rudimentary breakdown of spatial decay honestly, I still don’t understand how someone confuses atomic diffusion rates with heat based deconstruction and I threw a book at her.

He tapped the end of the pen to the page.

She didn’t cry. Didn’t storm out. She laughed. Actually laughed. Rubbed the back of her head and said, “Should’ve known you’d have better aim than that,” before flipping back to her notes and reworking the entire equation.

Stubborn. Stubborn. Stubborn.

He underlined the word twice.

Entry Five:

She got something right today.

Not just right. Brilliant, actually. She identified a miscalculation in a gravitational bleed pattern I hadn’t even caught yet. I told her it was “adequate.” She beamed like I’d handed her a Nobel Prize.

Ratio exhaled slowly at the memory. There had been more moments like that. More times than he cared to admit where he’d look at her work and see genuine understanding growing like a slow, tenacious weed through cracked pavement.

She was undisciplined. A jumbled mess of deduction and instinct. But she was learning.

He flipped to the last few pages in the book, where neat bullet points were written in his precise hand. Not for himself. For her.

• You need to stop jumping to conclusions without sufficient data.

• Emotion clouds deduction. Maintain detachment until evidence is confirmed.

• Your spatial awareness is strong. Consider pursuing work in trajectory and motion based forensics.

• Your memory recall, while clumsy, is oddly adaptive. You seem to remember patterns more than facts use that.

• Stop doodling in the margins.

And then, written softer, smaller, like it embarrassed him:

• You are better than you think. Just… be better still.

He hadn’t meant to go into so much detail. It was just supposed to be notes. Brief, simple. A few guiding remarks she could use once she returned to playing Sherlock on alien planets. But the longer he spent around her, the more the book filled. He would’ve given it to her. That was the plan. Hand it off as a cold farewell and return to his own work, alone, uninterrupted.

But when she said she was leaving, a strange ache settled in his chest. He had closed the book instead. He told her she was idiotic. That was easier than saying anything else. He wasn’t built for sentiment.

But now, in the sterile quiet of the lab, he opened the book again and stared at the last empty page. His pen hovered for a moment before he wrote:

You were the most tolerable nuisance I’ve encountered.

He closed the book. Folded his arms. And sat there, in silence. Holding the only piece of you he could.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. The Astral Express had settled into its familiar rhythm a quiet lull between the catastrophe that just occurred. You sat in your room, sprawled on your back atop your bed, legs dangling off the side as a small packet of data chips and half doodled notes littered the floor beneath you. The lighting was dim, and soft music played in the background something March had been trying to get everyone into. Bubblegum pop something or other. You didn’t mind it.

Then, your terminal lit up with an incoming call.

Caller ID: Dr. Veritas Ratio

You blinked. Seriously? The last time you’d heard from Ratio was months ago, back when you’d finished your “training” with him at Herta’s Space Station. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t sent a single follow up. Hell, you figured he forgot you existed. Which was fine. He’d called you idiotic more times than you could count. You got the message.

So why the sudden contact? You leaned over, smacked the “Answer” button with your palm, and sat back again, letting the hologram flicker to life. The familiar sight of Ratio appeared sharply dressed, arms crossed, and already mid glare.

“Have all of you completely lost your minds?” he barked.

“Wow, no hello? You’ve really softened over the months,” you drawled, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a long yawn.

Ratio ignored the comment. “You brought it on board. A Stellaron. A living, breathing, ticking time bomb and you you let them install it into the crew roster like it’s a decorative lamp!”

“Not me,” you replied casually. “That was Himeko and Welt’s call. I was too busy teaching March how to tell the difference between a footprint and a crater.”

He leaned closer into the hologram, voice sharp as shattered glass. “And you didn’t stop them?”

You tilted your head, gaze flat. “Ratio, I’ve learned many things in my life. One of which is: you do not argue with Himeko unless you want to be questioning your own sexuality.”

“This is reckless. Irresponsible. Foolhardy. Welt Yang used to be logical.”

“He still is,” you said, picking at a thread in your blanket. “Realistically, this was the safest option.”

“Oh?” Ratio lifted a brow, sarcasm soaking every syllable. “Yes, why not keep the volatile Stellaron host onboard the most advanced dimensional train known to man? Surely the best place for a cosmic disaster seed is inside the space equivalent of a floating museum.”

“See? You do have a heart,” you said, smiling slightly. “You’re worried about us.”

“I’m worried about the structural integrity of your ship, and the illogical stupidity of a crew that includes people like well, like you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Ratio scowled. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

You rolled onto your side, cheek pressed to your pillow, gaze on the projection of his furious form pacing like a scientist on the edge of an aneurysm. “No, I am. I just also live on a train that is fully capable of going against the Antimatter Legion, hunted by robots, and now has an amnesiac walking stellar bomb with a winning smile and a personality March immediately adopted like a stray puppy. You’ll excuse me if I conserve my panic energy.”

Ratio paused, folding his arms. “You’ve grown bolder.”

“You called me idiotic for a week straight. I had to evolve or die.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, softly so softly you barely caught it he muttered

You blinked, eyebrows lifting. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Still. You would be wise to proceed with caution. The Stellaron may not act today or tomorrow, but entropy is inevitable. One misstep, and it could unravel every layer of existence you so casually nap on.”

You smiled lazily. “I missed your bedtime stories.”

“You are insufferable.”

“You called me.”

Ratio paused. For a flicker of a second, his expression shifted barely visible, like a crack in marble. Thoughtful. Frustrated. Maybe even… hesitant. “you have a brain. And I don’t like seeing it wasted.” He gestured vaguely in your direction. “You’re tolerable when you’re being cautious.”

“And you’re tolerable when you’re not actively trying to kill me with a migraine.”

The hologram began to glitch slightly signal fading as the Express entered another sector.

Ratio’s voice cut through one last time before the line ended: “Just don’t get comfortable. You may not always have time to brace for the explosion.”

Then the screen blinked to black. You sat there, the weight of his words hanging in the room like smoke.

“…Still didn’t say goodbye,” you murmured, grabbing your tea and taking a slow sip. You weren’t worried.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. Herta’s Space Station was bustling with its usual polite chaos researchers skittering around with datapads too big for their hands, drones zipping above heads, experiments sparking in sealed chambers. The scent of metal and burnt circuitry lingered faintly in the air. A strangely nostalgic aroma, really.

You had come here for one reason and one reason only: to visit Screwllum. The robotic genius had promised to show you a new forensic simulation model, one that could track theoretical blood spatter in zero gravity. You were deeply interested, and by “deeply interested,” you meant giddy like a child with a crime scene coloring book.

You weren’t expecting to see him. Not as you rounded the corner of the central archive, passing Herta’s projection arguing with itself, and almost bumped headfirst into a tall figure already ranting at a researcher over some miscalculation involving quantum probability flow.

“Dr. Ratio,” you breathed, blinking once.

He turned toward you slowly. You immediately put your hands over your mouth, gasped dramatically, and staggered back a step. If he gets to ghost you, why cant you have fun yourself?

“Veritas? Is it really you?” you cried, voice shaking like a widow in a play. “The universe said you were lost to the abyss of academia, never to be seen again! I we I waited so long!”

Ratio stared at you, expression unreadable but very much unimpressed. “You’re being absurd.”

“Absurdly in love,” you swooned, grabbing his arm with faux desperation. “I swore I’d wait, no matter how long the stars turned. You you arrogant bastard you came back.”

“Stop being ridiculous,” he replied flatly. “Ill have you know that if you even tried i would’ve answered. You were simply too busy pretending to be a detective on every rock you stumbled across.”

“not one letter. Not one call. Do you have any idea how I’ve suffered? Ive missed my stuck up asshole of a husband”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were messaging Screwllum memes less than twelve hours ago.”

You blinked. “Screwllum loves my memes. Don’t derail me trying to make you look like a bad husband.”

“I should’ve let you fail the entropy unit,” he muttered, brushing your hands off like you were a particularly annoying layer of dust.

You laughed, arms crossing over your chest. “Still as insufferable as ever, Ratio. You really know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

Ratio returned to his datapad. “If by ‘welcome’ you mean ‘tolerated,’ then yes. I remain consistent.”

There was a beat of silence. The usual static hum of the station pulsed around you. You tilted your head slightly, observing him not just as a former mentor or your favorite verbal sparring partner, but as someone you honestly missed.

You stepped a little closer, voice dropping. “Hey… could we catch up a bit?”

He paused. His fingers hovered over the datapad. Just for a second. Then, slowly, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

“why”

You smiled. “Ok big guy is asking the questions, I suppose I just want to see how you’re doing.”

Ratio’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk. “I suppose… some minds are worth the occasional recalibration.”

“Is that your way of saying ‘yes’?”

“It’s my way of saying you’re still stubborn and prone to foolishness but slightly less irritating than most of the imbeciles I suffer daily.”

You beamed. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Ratio glanced away, resuming his work. “Don’t get sentimental.”

But you saw the way his posture shifted less tense, a fraction more open.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. Ratio’s quarters were exactly what you expected and somehow even more Ratio than you thought possible.

Minimalist, sterile, everything arranged with sharp symmetry almost clinical, like the man had tried to recreate a science lab in the shape of a bedroom. The lighting was dim, a soft overhead hue that neither strained the eyes nor dared to be comforting. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, but not a single one looked even slightly out of place. His desk had no dust, no loose wires, no snacks just data pads, models, papers arranged in brutal harmony. despite all the perfect order, there was something kind of… homey about it. Or maybe you were just losing your mind. Probably the latter.

“I’ll return shortly,” he said earlier, stepping out with a brief mention of fetching something from Screwllum or threatening Herta’s projection into silence you weren’t sure which. His voice was already vanishing down the hall as you nodded absently, too curious about seeing this inner sanctum of his to stop him.

Which is how you ended up alone in the room and your eyes landed on the book. You hadn’t seen it since your time as his reluctant partner slash student slash mental punching bag. Leather bound, its corners slightly worn, it sat there on the desk like it had been placed just for you to find it. An artifact of a past so recent it still itched under your skin. You told yourself to leave it alone. You didn’t. Fingers brushed the cover. You opened it.

The first few pages were filled with sharp, scathing commentary written in Ratio’s precise, aggressively legible handwriting. Your early days of working together where you barely kept up and made mistakes that, according to him, “required divine intervention to unsee.” You scoffed, flipping forward.

There were notes, not just about your blunders, but about what you’d done right. Diagrams you’d drawn that he’d annotated, not with insults, but improvement suggestions. Questions you’d asked that he’d praised though usually in the most begrudging tone imaginable.

You flipped further. Dates from after your training had ended appeared.

She let that walking disaster <Stelle> on board. Of course she did. Her loyalty to the crew is stronger than her self preservation. Idiotic.

…Though, if she’s the one monitoring it, perhaps there’s hope it won’t implode immediately.

Your brows lifted. Another entry, this time sloppier, less rigid:

Saw her solve a multi layer deduction test from Ruan Mei’s simulation. Beat the projection time by five minutes. Either she’s improving rapidly… or cheating. I doubt the latter. Annoying. Impressive.

And then:

You were the most tolerable nuisance I’ve encountered.

You stared at that line for a long time, blinking. Your heart gave the smallest traitorous flutter. Ratio? Writing that down? In his own personal notes? Voluntarily?

“Veritas Veritas Veritas,” you whispered, amused, letting the book rest gently on the desk again, “you’re so down bad and you don’t even know it.”

You glanced around the room with new eyes now. Not just a workspace. There were signs of you scattered in the margins things you’d said that he’d scribbled down verbatim, questions you’d asked, observations you’d made. There, in this sterile haven of knowledge, you existed. When the door slid open again with that same low mechanical hiss, you didn’t turn immediately. You kept your hands at your sides, innocent, as Ratio entered holding a datapad and a cup of something that definitely wasn’t coffee.

He raised an eyebrow.

“You moved things,” he said bluntly.

You turned, grinning. “I breathed in here. Hope that’s not too much.”

Ratio’s eyes zeroed in on the open book like a hawk spotting a wounded animal. The datapad in his hand made a dull thud as he dropped it to the desk beside you.

“You read it,” he said, voice low, clipped. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact delivered like an accusation.

You opened your mouth, but he was already moving, closing the book in one motion that was more violent than necessary. His eyes flicked to you, sharp with something between irritation and disbelief. “That book was for me. My documentation. My evaluations. Not for you to comb through like some sentimental schoolgirl with a crush.”

You just raised your hands a little in mock surrender. “Okay, first of all ow. Second, maybe don’t leave emotionally repressed love letters in plain sight if you don’t want them read.”

His scowl deepened. “You are not the center of my notes. You were a case study in irritating persistence.”

You smiled. “A tolerable nuisance, if I remember correctly.”

“I regret ever writing that.”

“You do not.”

Ratio looked like he was about to snap again, but your tone shifted before he could. A little more sincere this time. Less teasing.

“Look, before you combust into quantum dust or something, I’ve been doing the same thing. Kind of.”

That made him blink. His arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched.

You shrugged. “Whenever there was news. Whenever Screwllum or Herta mentioned something cool you did. Whenever you published something with Ruan Mei. I’d log it in a little virtual journal. Notes, quotes, observations. Even drew a diagram of your frustrated face once. It was very detailed.”

“You tracked my activity?” His voice was dry with disbelief.

“Kept tabs,” you corrected. “I mean, you did teach me how to observe patterns and record data. I thought it’d be fun to apply it to you.”

Ratio stared at you. Hard.

You grinned again, stepping closer now, just into his space, enough to make him instinctively stiffen. “So, if you like me so much, Veritas…” you tilted your head, voice dipping into a teasing lilt, “it doesn’t have to stay theoretical.”

The room went dead silent. Ratio’s eye twitched.

“I do not like you.”

You leaned back with a smug hum, hands slipping behind your back. “Sure. That’s why you wrote, ‘perhaps there’s hope it won’t implode immediately.’ About me and the crew.”

“That was in reference to the logistical risk of hosting a walking bomb, not an emotional attac—”

“You said impressive, Ratio.”

“I said annoying right before.”

You shrugged. “And still impressive.”

Ratio turned away from you, muttering curses under his breath in a tone too quiet to catch. But he didn’t tell you to leave. Didn’t shove you out or erase his notes or block access to his quarters. Instead, he sat, flipped open a new file on his datapad, and typed exactly three words

Emotional interference: persistent.

You laughed as you settled in across from him.

“Glad I’m still in your data set.”